The Girl He Knew
by bbgirl17555
Summary: Lucas sighed at the sight of her, sprawled ungainly in a chair on the deck, the sea air blowing her curls against her face, the stench of vomit clinging to her jacket. He shook his head. This was not his Peyton.
1. Prologue

**The Girl He Knew**

Set: After Season 4, the proposal happened and that is the last time Lucas or Peyton have seen each other in three years. Now Peyton is back in Tree Hill because home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

**Prologue:**

_March 5__th__ 5:10 AM_

Lucas sighed at the sight of her, sprawled ungainly in a chair on the deck, the sea air blowing her curls against her face, hair sticking to her lips and cheeks, the sickening stench of vomit clinging to her jacket. He shook his head as if trying to deny his senses; this was not the girl he knew. This was not his Peyton.

"Come on, Peyt." He grunted; using a nickname she hadn't heard in three years. He tried to remain detached, cold, as he pulled her to stand on wobbly feet, but the anger vibrated off of his skin. He hated this, hated himself, hated her, hated the world for letting her become this- making her this. The putrid smell of regurgitated tequila was strong on her breathe and he wondered what he was even doing here. He had a fiancée waiting at home for him and here he was, playing savoir again. A disgusted sneer crossed his lips, he didn't want that role any more. "Peyton!" He called, his voice snappish, breaking the calming dawn. "You need to wake up! Wake up!" He commanded, half tempted to put her back where he had found her and let Brooke deal with her when ever she woke up.

"What for?" It was the softest mewing, a whine carried on the sea air away from them.

"For me. Come on." Lucas coaxed, trying to force warmth into his voice when all he wanted to do was shake her senseless. For a moment her eyes flashed open, emeralds squinting at the earliest morning light, before her head sagged forward, mouth slack-jawed, the will to go on parting from her as quickly as it came. All she wanted was this, sweet oblivion, something to numb the wounds that never healed, something to make her forget the scars the painted everything in grey.

"Never mind." Lucas rolled his eyes, antipathy running high. He leaned her briefly against the deck rail, before taking a deep breath and then heaving her up into his arms. She was lighter than he remembered, the phantom weight of her the day of the school shooting always in the back of his mind, and her hip bones jetted out, rubbing roughly against his stomach as he carried her inside and into the spare bedroom.

Once inside he laid her down on the floral coverlet and ran a hand across his face, at a loss of what to do next. She was a mess, in more ways than one, her denim mini skirt riding up high on her thighs and her jacket stained with vomit. Exhaling loudly, he wondered what he had gotten himself into. He thought about calling Haley but knew after last night that wasn't the best option, and Nathan was certainly out of the question. In reality he figured she should be Brooke's problem. She was the one that had invited Peyton to come roaring back into their lives, destruction following at her heels.

Lucas lifted Peyton's blonde head, placing a pillow beneath it and turning her on her side, a waste basket inches from her face. He wasn't quiet certain how much she had had to drink but it was enough to have him worried. Stepping out of the small room, he groaned at the ruin in front of him. Red cups littered the carpet with half deflated birthday balloons hanging low, their strings mixing with spilled chips and forgotten plates on the floor, and oblivious to it all, lay Brooke Davis, snoring softly on the sofa. Bending down, Lucas placed a hand on her shoulder and shook lightly. "Brooke." He called softly. "Come on, Brooke. I need you to wake up and take care of your mess of a best friend."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Lucas looked up with a start to find the front door open, and a dark hair girl balancing four cups of coffee drinks, two bottles of water and a bottle of aspirin. "Let me help you." Lucas approached her, taking the drinks from her overly full hands and setting them on the counter. "And why wouldn't you do that,…" Lucas let the sentence linger on, before just admitting the truth. "I am so sorry. I forgot you name."

"Millicent, Millie." Millie smiled. "Don't feel bad, I sort of figured you were going to have your hands full. When I left last night thing seemed a little… tense." She handed him a cup. "Mocha extra foam?"

"Thanks." Lucas took the hot beverage. "I guess 'tense' is a good word for it. "

Millie nodded, starting to pick up trash and handing Lucas dishes to be placed in the sink. "Did your brother make it home okay? He seemed a little-"

"Like a drunk ass?" Lucas filled in, not even bothering to hide the venom in his voice. Millie offered him an uncomfortable smiled in return. "Yeah. I drove him to my place, watched him throw up in my fireplace and finally got him to bed. I came back as soon as I could."

"I generally try to call it an early night when I am sure that Brooke will need extra help the next day."

"You mean when she is going to be hung-over?"

"Something like that." Millie admitted, eyes downcast. She really didn't know how to feel around Brooke's friends, people that she had heard about, even read about, but never met. "And just FYI if you wake Brooke up from a hangover without bacon prepare for the worse."

"I forgot about that." Luke admitted. So much had changed in those years apart, Brooke had been back for almost two weeks but they were all still feeling each other out, trying to find a way to repair the damage time had done to all of their friendships.

"Oh god." Lucas heard the unmistakable sound of Peyton's voice, a groan followed but the sound of her retching into the waste basket.

"Is that?" Millie asked, peeking into the open room.

"Peyton." Lucas confirmed, annoyance flashing in his blue eyes. He watched as Payton laid her head back down, closing her eyes against the bright light of day. "That's why I was trying to wake sleeping beauty here." He gestured to Brooke, who let out a loud snore. "She needs a shower and I don't even know how much she had to drink." The sad truth was he didn't know anything about this girl, nothing that mattered anyway. She was an imposter, parading around in her skin with vacant eyes and a hard set jaw.

"I can do it." Millicent volunteered. Lucas was about to protest, when Millie held up a hand to silence him. "Brooke has a friend that's a model, it's not the first time." She offered. "I'll run up to Brooke's room and get her some sweats to wear. You want to try to wake her up?"

He didn't want to wake her, he didn't want to be in the same room as her but he nodded. "Alright." He spoke to himself, as if gearing up for a game, needing some sort of support to make it through this. "Wakey, wakey, Peyton." He spoke loudly, closing the door behind him. He stood in front of the bed. "Peyton!" He yelled, biting out her name, venom dripping from his tongue.

"Go away." The reply was weak and slurred.

"No." Lucas shook his head. "You are not getting out of this that easily. Come on." He lifted her to a sitting position. "We are going to get you into a shower." Lucas explained, a wordless whine coming from her sweet pink lips.

"Let's get you out of that jacket." Tenderly he pulled the jacket from her one arm, and then the other, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against the skin on her back and the satin fabric of her halter. "You've been wearing this all night." Lucas spoke gently. "That's better, isn't it?" He asked tossing the jacket across the room.

Peyton sagged against him, before Lucas lowered her head back to the pillow. It was then that he looked at her, really looked at her, without dizzying crowds and smoke filled clubs. "Oh god." He felt his stomach drop, and the bile rise in his throat, closing his eyes tightly against the sight in front of him, praying to a kinder God to let this all just be a nightmare. "My god, Peyton." He held a trembling hand over her back, before allowing it to run across the crisscrossing pink scars. "What happened to you?"

Peyton's eyes remained closed, tears leaking out as she felt his fingers play against her raised flesh. "You. You happened."

TBC

_A/N: So? Thoughts? Back story will be explained obviously. I will be working on this and A Soft Place to Land at the same time. This story is a little dark, so you are warned. Let me know what you think and click the Green Review Button!- Becca_


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

_March 4__th__ 8:10 A.M. PST_

"Wakey, wakey." The sing-song voice poured through her ears, invading her last desperate clinging of sleep.

"Go away." Peyton muttered, rolling her body away from his. Facing the dark stained cushions of the couch, she had crashed on, as she clutched at a blanket, chills wracking her body.

"No can do." He perched on the edge of the molted brown sofa, wrinkling his nose at the piss and beer stench that seemed to linger in the apartment before stealing her comforter and tossing it aside. "You have a flight in two hours and I think now-a-days you are supposed to be there an hour early, and since it take over an hour with traffic that means…" He paused, waiting until she glared up at him. "You are already late."

Peyton rolled once again, facing him, her eyes squinting at the light streaming into the room. This was not her home, not that she had one, she had left it all behind so long ago that she could no longer remember that sense of belonging. For a moment she was lost as she rubbed her eye with her open palm, her head throbbing in her skull before she remember she was at Damien's place, the drummer for the new band she was playing music rep for. "Tired." She whined.

"And looking like shit."

Peyton glared, feebly, her eyes struggling to focus in the harsh morning light; so much of her life was spent in darkness. "However much he is paying you, I will double it, if you just go away."

"No can do." He held out a hot cup of coffee for her trembling hand to take. "The reward is not in the money."

"Yeah." Peyton rolled her eyes, sipping her scalding beverage, the bitterness coating her tongue. He had forgotten the two sugars. "Like you are annoying me, just out of the kindness of your heart?"

"I have a heart!" He protested, while Peyton shot him a disbelieving look. They had spent too much time together in the past year for either one of them to be able to hide much. They weren't exactly friends, but they were something undefined, a mutual appreciation of music and things lost in that small town on the coast. "Okay, so he promised me a role in his next movie if I helped out. That would make me a triple threat."

"How would that make you a triple threat?" Peyton asked. "Music and movie, I am counting only two threats, and before I helped you rework that last record you weren't even that much of a music threat."

"Well, first off, nice to see you able to string actually coherent sentences together for once. And secondly, I am a triple threat. Chris Keller- rock god, movie god, sex god." Chris opened the lid of Peyton's coffee and pulled two packets of sugar from his pocket, dumping them in. "So be a good girl and get on the plane, like your boyfriend wants, and let me have my movie."

Peyton pushed the coffee towards Chris, feeling suddenly ill. He had remembered. She stood on legs that ached, needing space. "He is not my boyfriend."

"See, this is a totally a 'not my kid' moment."

"What?" Peyton asked, genuinely confused.

"Okay." Chris jumped over the sofa toward her. "So some girl comes up to me and is totally saying I am her 'baby daddy' but I know that kid is too ugly to be mine. So end it is all about perception. I say I am no one's dad and she says I am. Julian thinks you two are still together, you think not. It's all in the perception."

Peyton stood silent, her fuzzy brain trying to work around Keller's messed up logic. For a second she thought about mentioning DNA tests but decided against it, who knew where that would lead. "Look," Chris spoke. "For what it's worth I think Julian's heart is in the right place. He wants you to go and celebrate her birthday, to have some fun and just… be Peyton. He is worried about you."

Being Peyton was the problem. She didn't even know that girl anymore. "Why is he even worried about me?"

Chris sent her a sharp look, Peyton had forgotten how clearly he sometimes saw. "You know why." And she did. It was easier to pretend with others, to tell them the answers they wanted to hear, but with Chris, well he didn't really care about the answers, he wasn't expecting anything of her.

"I don't have enough time. I would still have to go home and pack." Feebly excuse poured from her lips, the reality so much harder to speak.

Keller produced a brown duffel bag. "Done. And I made sure to pick out something to show a little skin." He sighed at her angry expression, rolling his eyes he continued on. "And I also packed one or two of your million jackets. You do know that you live in southern California, right? It happens to be warm here. No one needs thirty jackets."

Peyton wasn't really listening; she was digging through the bag and pulling out a familiar denim jacket that she pulled on. "Where is my purse?" She began to search the dingy apartment. "Someone stole my purse!"

"No one stole your purse. I chucked it." Peyton's eyes bulged in her head. "Don't worry." He explained. "I made sure to get the good stuff out of it, wallet, keys, lipstick. I put them in one of those bags that Brooke is always sending you."

"I need my purse." Peyton ground out, feeling physically ill the thought of embarking anywhere near Tree Hill without its precious contents.

"No. You don't." Chris' stance was firm. Peyton had helped saved his career; he owed her this, even if she couldn't see it yet. Seeing tears form in her green eyes, he pulled her close, his body crushing hers in a hug. "You don't need it."

"I can't go back." She whispered, that was the point, wasn't it? No matter what she did she couldn't be that girl again, too much had happened, she was too far gone.

"Yes, yes you can."

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

_March 4__th__ 11:10 am EST_

"So everything is all set for tonight at Tric." Millicent calmly reported to her boss. "Bar is stocked, favors and flowers have arrived, both of your new dresses are steamed and waiting to be worn." She gestured to the two gorgeous Clothes over Bros gowns hanging in the back of Brooke's new shop, where mannequins and racks laid helter-skelter.

"Good." Brooke appraised the gowns. She wanted something that stood out. Her new story would open in less than a month and she needed to be seen and talked about in Tree Hill- nothing sold a dress like a bit of press. "I have to say I am impressed at how fast you pulled this together. You had what? Ten days?"

"Almost two weeks." Millie smiled. Brooke's moved back to her first home had come about in a rush. There were harsh words spoken between Victoria and her daughter, and suddenly NY was no longer Brooke's home. Millie had followed to help out with the new shop and some of the relocation, as to what she would do once things were settled had yet to de discussed.

"So how is the guest list coming?"

Millie cringed slightly. "Not many of the usuals RSVP." She admitted.

Brooke just shook her head, she hadn't expected them to, those people she hung with in Manhattan were not her friends, not really. "It's fine. Did Rachel call?"

"She is stuck in Milan doing a shoot but promised to swing by on her way to LA."

"Oh." Brooke's face fell slightly. "Well this will certainly be a lot more intimate than my 21st birthday, huh?"

"Well Haley will be there, Marvin, Antwon, Bevin, Tim, Ferguson, Nathan, Lucas and Lindsey." The assistant read off the top of her guest list, trying to interject some happiness into Brooke's day. She knew how hard things had been on her boss lately. "Oh and someone named Julian Baker called."

Brooke shook her head. "I don't know anyone named Julian Baker."

Millie flipped through her Iphone. "He said he was calling on behalf of Peyton. Said to expect her."

"Peyton?" Brooke rasped out.

"That's what he said."

Brooke felt as though someone had doused her in ice water. No one even spoke about her anymore. It was as if she simply just faded away in the year's after Lucas' disastrous proposal. First the calls came weekly, and then biweekly, the emails came monthly, and then not at all. Brooke used to take hours every week, selecting designs to send to Peyton to wear, taking time to remember the shape of her face and the exact shade of green of her eyes, and Peyton used to send her demos of bands that Brooke would never listen to on her own. Brooke still sent the outfits, but they were sent at Christmas and picked out randomly by whatever clerk was working in the store.

She had expected Peyton to at least show last year at her 21st birthday, she had sent her a first class ticket. It was a rather glamorous affair, if she thought so herself. In the end, Brooke went back to her place with Rachel and a bottle of wine and tried to forget that the blonde didn't even bother to call. Brooke didn't even realize that Millie had bothered to invite her, why would Peyton show to a simple 22nd birthday party thrown at Tric?

"Is something wrong?"

"No." Brooke shook her head. "Just- Peyton won't be there." She shrugged, trying not to show how deep that cut. Seeing Millicent worried expression Brooke smiled at her. "It's a good thing. Trust me, wherever Peyton went- drama followed."

TBC

**A/N: First I am so sorry this took so long. I lost my hard drive and had to rewrite and just lost my muse for a bit. Luckily it is back and swinging. This is a Peyton centric chapter leading into where the prologue started. Peyton is very different from when she left Tree Hill and I wanted that crystal clear before having her go back home. Also I love me some Chris Keller. Next Chapter: Peyton Comes Home. Like it? Review please! –Becca-**


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

_March 4__th__, 6:20 PM EST_

She was utterly alone in the mass of people, watching as the luggage carousel went around, and as friends and lovers smiled and greeted one another. The flight had been long and hard. Even the drive to the airport had caused her to heave outside of Chris's car, much to his distain. Now she stood distant from all the love and joy that surrounded her, waiting for her duffel to appear, clutching at her purse that held the three hundreds that Chris has given her as he saw he struggle under the weight of her bag at LAX. She felt ashamed to take it, because he knew, and he didn't pretend not to. Pressing the money into her hand, he had brought his lips against her ear. "It's not okay, but you are going to do what you are going to do." Peyton went to speak, but he had cut her off. "But one day, Peyton, you are going to have to stop."

A sickness rose in her stomach at the memory. She had nearly started to cry right there in the departure lane at LAX but Chris had tossed Peyton her phone that he had been fiddling with. "I'm number one." He announced. "So if you need anything just call." And Peyton scrolling through her contact list found Chris had placed himself at her 1st speed dial under the heading 'Movie Music Sex God'. It had been that brief moment of humor that had given her enough strength to board the plane in the first place, but since arriving in North Carolina she felt weak and sick, and stupid- mostly stupid. You can't go home again. Not really, that's what everyone always said. She just now understood that. Finding her duffel, she hoisted it up on to her too thin shoulder and made her way out of the doors and into the world.

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

"Lucas?" Brooke's raspy voice called out his name in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Lucas made his way past the polished bar where Brooke stood, looking so adult in her black and red fitted dress that it was hard to imagine her as the girl he knew in high school. He was still getting used to her shorter hair and her calmer demeanor. "Just checking in. I wanted to make everything was perfect for you tonight." He placed an arm around her back, giving her a friendly hug as he pulled her to his side.

"Thanks." Brooke smiled, taking in the scene as the staff bustled from place to place, fresh red roses in short vases being placed on bar style tables, with crème colored linens. She redirected one worker with a point of her finger and a sharp look towards another table. "But we are good. You should go, it's covered." There was no malice in her voice, in fact watching the space being transformed had made her rather bubbly. She had decide not to let the Peyton thing bring her down, if Peyton didn't care than why should she? Brooke saw Luke hesitate. "That is unless you would rather stay…"

Lucas heard the unspoken question at the end of her sentence, the way her eyes refused to look at him, but he didn't speak, he had unspoken questions of his own. It was good having Brooke back but she came with memories trailing from her fingertips, drops of nostalgia falling heavy with her, moments that brought him back to seventeen. He still expected to walk into Brooke's new shop and see Brooke and her giggling or to hear Brooke rasp out P. Sawyer. He had never really known Brooke to exists without Peyton, not since he saw the two of them, nine years old, passing notes in Miss Ferris' class. Brooke didn't mention her and he didn't pry but he assumed they still talked and he had been dying for Brooke to let slip something about her, but nothing ever came. He told himself that it wasn't that he really missed Peyton as much that he just wanted to know she was okay and he had half convinced himself that once he knew that the slow ache in his chest would lessen and the world would right itself. Then he could devote himself to Lindsey and they could finally set a date. There was an elbow nudge to his rib. "Broody, care to share?"

"It's nothing." Lucas insisted, tearing his thoughts away from the blonde that had left such an imprint on his heart, he took a deep breath and forced himself to focus. She was gone, and he was here, and here was good. Sometimes he wondered when good became something to strive for, instead of breathtaking- moments that both made you smile so hard it hurt and cry until your soul felt empty. It seemed to him that growing up had more to do with settling for a pleasant medium rather than ride the highs and lows. "Nathan has decided to play NBA Live, loudly, on my sofa."

Brooke winced, Nathan becoming obsessed with video games was never a good sign. "So he heard that Haley is bringing Ethan?"

"What?"

"Haley called…" Brooke could tell this was not wanted Lucas wanted to hear. "She is bringing that doctor she has been seeing."

Lucas felt a rush of anger rise in him. "How can she do that? I mean how can she just move on without him?"

"Whoa." She waved her hands. "Calm down. Seriously, misplaced anger much?" Lucas glared through her thinly veiled accusation. "Naley went like dunzo more than a year ago and if I remember correctly it was because he decided to play sleepy time with the nanny. So, so not Haley's fault and if she wants to bring the cute doctor and maybe some of his cute doctor friends to my party, who are we to deny her?"

"You only care about getting set up!" Lucas accused.

"Do not." Brooke replied.

"Do too!"

Brooke was about to yell 'do not' back at him when a high pitched whir drowned her out, Lucas yelled over the sound. "What is that?"

Brooke took his hand and lead him to a back space of Tric, one that was mostly used for storage, though it was rather pretty with high stained glass windows. There in a mist of wet and shaved ice on the floor sat a four foot high ice sculptor. "What do you think?" Brooke asked.

Lucas walked carefully around as the artist carved out the details. "It's you."

And it was her, or most specifically her head, four feet tall with an eerie smile. "Isn't it the best?"

"Yeah." Luke replied, still to stun to speak. "The best." He dead panned. The truth was this was exactly the sort of thing that Brooke would want, just before Peyton would have been there to either talk some sense into her or to mock her for it.

"Okay." Brooke pushed him back out of the room, Luke's eyes still glued to the ice statue, until the door was shut, blocking it from site. "So you already got to see one of the surprises, so now you have to go home and get dressed and warn Nathan about Haley."

"Why do I have to warn Nathan?"

"Because he is living with you, or with you and Lindsey, which if you ask me is a little too 'Three's Company' for me but whatever works for you. I know that if I were Lindsey I certainly would want my son to be brother-in-law living in the guest room like has been for the past, what? Ten months? Do you even realize that is almost a year?"

Luke tried not to groan. "I realized." Of course he did. It wasn't easy having Nathan there, for one thing his brother was a bit of a slob, but Nathan's presence did provide a buffer, an excuse to not fight with Lindsey or to let her fears go unanswered, because he wouldn't lie to her and the truth would only hurt her and in the end it didn't matter anyway. He was marrying Lindsey and it was good; it had to be good enough. Walking towards the door he turned to ask one last favor of Brooke. "So between the giant you and Haley bringing a date, can we be done with the surprises?"

Brooke nodded. "Don't worry, Broody, no more surprises." As the door shut behind him, she muttered to herself. "At least I hope not."

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

Peyton tossed her bag onto the bed in room number four of the Top Sail Inn. It was a dive but Julian didn't know that and it served her purposes. Chris had handed her Julian's American Express on the way to the car, apparently he would be footing this bill, which was good because Peyton was rather sure that despite her recent raise that her bank account had a single digit amount in it. Of course with the money came strings, as did everything with Julian she had come to realize. There would be a paper trail and no doubt he would be monitoring everything. She wished that she had been a little less like a love starved puppy when she met him and more like the women in her office that played games, and snooped on their men; at least then she would have his pin and be able to get a cash advance, but for now that three hundred Keller gave her would have to last for anything off the record.

The room had two double beds and Peyton selected the one farthest from the door, settling herself against the pillows and flipping on the TV with the small black remote. As far as she was concerned she had done her part, even gone above and beyond to help Chris, she took the stupid trip, that didn't mean she had to step foot out of the room.

After landing she had planned to go to the party, she had thought about how wonderful it would be to just see Brooke and to hear her voice and for Peyton to tell her how proud of her she was, and how jealous, but mostly proud of what her best friend had been able to do with her life. But as the cab drove through the small town, Peyton felt herself, shrinking down, praying that no one would spot her, or her them. She wasn't that Peyton, and there was no way to erase what she had done and who she had become. Telling Brooke had never been an option, though she almost did once, Julian was gone and there was a moment when the memories became too real. She had dialed six digits before hanging up, Brooke didn't need that guilt and Peyton didn't want her to know, not then, and not now. So instead she had pulled on her converse sneakers and walked until she found an escape in the darkness.

Settling in, with a _Friends_ rerun, Peyton couldn't help but glance at the empty bed beside her. She didn't sleep alone anymore, in the intended sense of the word only. Julian had happily filled the space beside her but since the split she had found herself crashing wherever the invite came from, last night it had been a drummer from a band she was supposed to be signing for the label, and before that it was after a party with one of the girls from work, a few times while recording his album, Chris and her had fallen asleep in the sofa in the break room. Now she found herself wishing that Keller was there, if nothing else but to keep her from being alone.

Pressing number one she waited. "Hey." She tried to sound light.

"Sawyer, shouldn't you be getting ready for Brooke's shindig?" She could hear music blaring in the background and tried to picture herself there instead of where she was.

"I'm ready. Just about to go in." She lied.

"So what are you wearing?" Chris asked.

Peyton groaned. "I already told you last year, Chris, I am not having phone sex with you."

Chris sighed. "Get your mind off my hot body. I'm for real. What are you wearing? Did you like what I packed?"

"Yeah. It's great." Peyton quickly grabbed the duffel and dropped the contents on the bed, sorting quickly through the tiny bits of fabric, grabbing a skirt and top. "I am wearing that green halter and the mini skirt."

"Bullshit."

"No, really. It looks nice, you did good." She didn't know why she didn't just tell him the truth, except it was beyond lame that she was hiding in her hotel room, to afraid to face the world. "Well I just wanted to say, thanks- for the clothes and I think I see Brooke! Gotta go." With that Peyton hung up feeling foolish.

The phone in her hand vibrated and a text message appeared on her screen. 'No pic- no plane tix' With a frustrated sigh, Peyton tossed the phone down and began to change. If he wanted a picture, she would take a picture. She slipped on the satin green halter and distressed denim mini skirt and went to take a picture of herself before remembering to pull on her jacket. No way would Chris buy her in a halter without her jacket, not in public anyway. Just before she went to snap the photo another message crossed the phone. 'w/ b davis'

"Of course!" She yelled to no one. God, she hated this, all of this, it was so stupid and so childish. Why could they all just accept that she couldn't be that girl anymore? Pushing back her hair, Peyton took a deep breath before grabbing her purse and room key and heading out into the night. She had escaped into the darkness before, why not again?

TBC

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I know I broke up Naley. Sorry it was needed for the story, trust me. So what did everyone think of Peyton? She is a lot darker than I like my Peyton but it will all be explained. I just loved the idea of Nathan living with Lucas and Lindsey, just hanging out and eating on their couch. Please let me know what you guys think, reviews totally feed my muse. Next chapter: The Party! –Becca-**


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: Okay Naley Lovers try to bear with me through a few more chapters before burning me at the stake. Things will get worse before they get better but better they will get, if you just stay along for the ride.**

**Chapter Three**

_March 4__th__, 11:08 PM EST_

Her black heels clattered loudly against the metal steps as she heard someone appreciatively whistle at her, and she was glad that she had gone back to really do herself up. Peyton had never been into clothes and make up, that had been Brooke's forte but she had come to find after years in LA that it was all just a mask. The more eyeliner on, the shorter the skirt, the higher the heels and the less people really saw you. They might look more but they knew less, and the sadness in her eyes was easily shrouded by hazy clubs and the pain drowned out in the booming sound.

Peyton took a deep breath before entering the club, the smoke and music a welcome friend, something familiar in a world too familiar and yet too strange. It had taken her longer than she thought to find what she had been searching for in the darkness. The courage had yet to hit her bloodstream but she knew the rush would come, it was instinctive, in a moment or two this would all be tolerable. She just had to get through these first few minutes, and then the world would not be so harsh and hard. And one day she would look back at herself and laugh bitterly that she still cared so much what they all thought, one day this would all soften under time and influence.

She made her way on the fringe of the crowd spotting Brooke easily, holding court near the bar. The brunette held a shot glass high in her hand but the words were lost in the cacophony, not quiet reaching to the blonde in the corner. Peyton couldn't help the instinctive smile that crossed her lips at the sight of her best friend. Most of her life Peyton had felt that Brooke was the other half of her, the voice that reminded her to throw caution to the wind and how to embrace life to the fullest.

"Hey." There was a man to her side with two shot glasses in his hand and a come hither stare. Peyton replied with a flirtatious smile, it was an easy part to slip into, to be the girl that they wanted her to be. Sure it was a bit degrading if she really thought about it but it kept her from being alone and that was all that mattered anymore. He offered her the drink and she took it in her tiny hand as he warned her it was pretty strong.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught a flash of blonde hair and a smile that caused her stomach to drop. _Lucas._ He was standing close to Brooke with his one arm wrapped protectively around a light haired brunette in a black dress. Of all the emotions that she expected to surface with Lucas, of the love and loss, she was unprepared for the sudden fury that rang in her ears and doused her world in red. She had told herself a million times that none of it had been his fault but somewhere deep down she maintained a belief that it was _his words_ that had sent it all into motion, igniting a firestorm from which she knew recovery was futile.

Downing the shot in one quick, fluid motion she handed the empty glass back to the man on her right and made her way through the throng coming up to the group just in time to hear the end of Brooke's toast "So, here's to hanging with our crew the old and the new and to everyone getting what they want!" Brooke and the group swallowed their shots, heads tilting back to let the alcohol rush down before they noticed the interloper.

"Can I get one of those?" The words were calm, even friendly, though inside Peyton was raging.

"Peyton?" Brooke whispered her name and froze.

The silence seems to stretch on for insurmountable amount of time, the rest of the world and the thunderous music seeming like the distant ocean roar made muted and soft under calming winds. Finally Peyton punctured the silence with a self deprecating "Surprise?"

Brooke was internally battling whether to punch Peyton or to hug close and never let go. It didn't help that Peyton was looking directly at her and ignoring the other glances, as if waiting for her punishment to be doled out. Ultimately it was Nathan, who broke the strain, having just made his way over to the group from the direction of Brooke's likeness carved in ice. "Dude, that thing is a little freaky." He announced, a beer in his hand, his fifth of the night, unaware of the tension enveloping the group. "Holy crap. Sawyer?" He locked eyes with his former girlfriend.

Peyton tore her eyes from Brooke and smiled up at the 6'4" mass of dark hair and charm that had once been hers, deliberately refusing to meet Lucas' openly wondering gaze. "Hey, Nate." Her voice was soft but became loud squeals as Nathan picked her up, crushing his body against hers and spinning her, causing her heels to accidentally knock Lindsey's elbow. "Sorry." She apologized with a quick glance to the woman that Lucas had his arm wrapped around before Nathan once again captured her attention.

"I can't believe this. How long has it been?" Peyton went to speak but Nathan cut her off, the joy of seeing her mixed with the alcohol making him to impatient for any real answers. He just wanted to soak her in, not so long ago she had been his best friend, and now she was here just when he desperately need her to be. "What have you been up to? Why are you back?"

Peyton laughed, the nervousness coming up as a shake of her head. "Well I-"

"You look good." Nathan continued. Grabbing her hands and stepping back to really admire her, the space their own. His eyes ran the length of her, undressing her curves and taking then time to appreciate the sight in front of him. Her hair was longer, even with the curls that normally kept it tightly coiled it was still halfway down her back, and it looked lighter, blonder. She was wearing eyeliner that seemed to define her green eyes, making them seem brighter. As for the rest of her, he leaned in and whispered low in her ear. "I _love_ the skirt."

"You do look great, Peyton." Mouth chimed in, and then Peyton was pulling him close and saying thank you and telling him that he had turned into quiet the heartbreaker and that if he had a girlfriend she better watch her back. It was amazing how easily she slipped into the flirtatious banter without even thinking about it, something that became ingrained while in the city of angels.

Then Haley's arms were around her before the teacher pulled back, wagging a finger in her direction. "You ever do that to us again, you are dead- you know that? We were worried sick about you."

"I won't." The words came without thought; she had become accustom to saying whatever the person most wanted to hear. It was easier that way, and if truth was lost in the process it seemed like a fair trade for a moment of peace.

"Promise?" Brooke step forward, unshed tears swimming in her sierra eyes. And with as much serious thought as she could in her haze Peyton nodded slowly, her bottom lip working between her teeth as she realized how much she missed this, how much she needed this, a place to belong to, even just for a moment.

Suddenly Brooke's arms were around her neck and Peyton was falling backwards, the two of them landing in a tangled heap on the floor as bystanders looked on, curious about the two laughing women. "What? Never seen a best friendship with lesbian undertones?" Brooke shouted at them as Peyton smacked her arm, and Brooke slapped her back.

"Don't tell people that!" Peyton squealed, on a euphoric high that didn't fit.

Haley stretched out a hand to help hoist her friend up as Brooke giggled. "Oh it is so true! How many times have you checked out my ass?"

"I don't know, probably about the same amount you've checked out my rack or lack there of."

"Don't!" Brooke pointed at Peyton. "Don't be a Debbie Downer. You have lovely breasts."

"Okay," Peyton laughed as Mouth bent to pull her to her feet, "How much have you guys let her drink?"

"I think that was her fourth." Haley offered as she snuggled against the doctor behind her. "And I think that should be all for tonight. I tend to think when the conversation turns to breasts that is the cut off point."

"You really are a mom." Peyton commented as Haley looked upward, with a pleased smile as if to say 'damn right I am'.

"She's a party pooper." Nathan interjected, carrying a tray and lowering from over Peyton's head, his body pressed against hers, as he offered everyone else access to the multiple shots. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as his former wife's lip twitched downward and part of him felt a drop of soothing revenge. After all, he had to spend the night watching her and Ethan dance and laugh and tease. That was his place and he couldn't help the jealousy that filled his veins when he watched someone trying to fill it.

"So four?" Peyton asked; smiling at Haley, who nodded mutely, unable to trust herself to speak with Nathan draped all over Peyton like he was. "Okay. One." Peyton took a shot, the liquid searing from her sweet pink lips down her stomach in one quick gulp. "Two. Three-"

"Peyton." It was the first word Lucas had spoken to her since she had descended on their world, his head a symphony of highs and lows, his breath leaving his lungs at the sight of her. She did look 'good' as Nathan had so elegantly put it. Her hair had grown so much, it was mesmerizing, almost a living thing the way it bounced and reflected the light. The clothes were different, leaving little to the imagination, the mini showing off her long legs and the emerald halter showing off a generous amount of her cleavage. Still there was something he noticed about her smile, her laughter- that it seemed so outward, as if there was no inner fire from which it sprung. They way she was flirting with Mouth and Nathan, so automatic, that it caused his heart to be both ashamed and to hurt so badly for her that he almost wanted to walk away, to be spared the pain of seeing her like this. Still watching her down the shots in rapid succession was too much for him to be able to keep biting his tongue. For too long he had been her savior and he didn't know how to stop if he even wanted too, saving Peyton meant saving himself. Even when she wasn't in his world, she was his world. And catching her eye, he asked one simple request. "Don't."

His voice was soft and firm causing Peyton to meet his gaze, holding it for a second, blue eyes battling green, before a wicked smile broke across her lips, the devil winning the battle for her soul, as she took the last shot. "Four." And with a loud whooping cough she turned over the four empty shoot glasses as Nathan hooted and then high-fived her.

"Okay, party girl." Brooke grabbed her hand. "We totally need to dance."

"Back off, Davis, I totally got dibs." Nathan yelled, pulling the blonde against his side.

Lucas watched through clenched teeth as they made their way on to the dance floor. Mouth causing Peyton to laugh, the sound drifting towards him, the tinkling of china bells, as he struck a Saturday Night Fever pose and mentioned them doing an encore of their Disco Inferno days. The way the four of them seemed to fit, friendly without any damage to keep them from remembering that they were still young and allowed to make mistakes and to enjoy themselves made Lucas' mouth run dry with envy. He had lost that part of himself when Peyton said no and now here he was 22, pinned in by the past and unable to do anything as Lucas watched his brother press against Peyton, bending down to play with a lock of her golden mane, causing Haley to roll her eyes and turn away.

Noticing that Lucas had moved ever so slightly away from her and now stood with his fists balled, his nails biting into his flesh, glaring as Peyton danced against Nathan, her mini skirt riding high on her thighs, Lindsey sighed and turned to face the bar next to Haley. "So that's Peyton?" Lindsey asked.

"That's Peyton." Haley replied as Ethan shuffled uncomfortably behind her, "Two more please." Haley called to the dark haired bartender, and as he filled two shot glasses with amber liquor the girls shared a knowing look. "Cheers." The women clinked the tiny glasses together and downed the liquid courage. It was going to be a long night.

TBC

**A/N 2: First off thank you so much for the feedback. I hate to admit this because I lose all my cool writer points but I totally go "Squee!" every time I get a review. (And there might even be a little dance that goes with it). So please keep them coming. They really do mean the world to me.**

**As for this chapter- yeah I expect some unhappy campers and some ticked off campers when the next chapter comes out. Repeat after me- it has to get worse so it can get better. That goes for Leyton fans and Naleys. Peyton is in a pretty bad place and just because it looks like she is being welcomed back, doesn't mean they are ready (or willing) to have this new Peyton in their lives. As to what made Peyton this way... well I have been dropping hints here and there but the reveal is still several chapters away, still if anyone wants to guess, if you get it right I will let you know.**

–**Becca-**


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

_March 5__th__ 1:12 AM_

She was possessed, that was the only explanation Luke could come up with to rationalize Peyton's behavior. He had toyed with the idea that maybe she was actually Peyton secret evil twin but found the whole notion a little to soap opera for his taste, still it seemed more plausible then the thought that three years in LA had somehow turned Peyton into this.

He sat perched on the familiar red sofa watching as Peyton danced sandwiched in a group of four guys with Bevin and Brooke close by. It was torturous but he couldn't seem to drag his eyes from her gyrating form, the way her curls bounced with her movement, catching on the denim of her jacket, or the way she would lean back against any willing male body, her skirt rising indecently high, writhing and arching as she exposed the long column of her delicate neck. She was his siren, the hot rush that filled his veins; her presence was a dangerous addiction, her sugary sweetness colliding with her fiery temper, making a concoction which few men could resist. It was something he had fought before and won, sleepless nights where his hand instinctively reached for the phone to call her his hard fought battles and now he was a veteran, officially moved on, engaged even, but here she was no more than twenty feet away, tormenting him with each motion. And as if she could read his very soul, Peyton locked eyes with him, a devil smile playing on her lips as she moved along the length of man behind her, emerald eyes that bore into Lucas' icy blue ones, forcing him to turn away.

His face turned, his eyes focus on the sight of a black dress, less than 6 inches from his face, before his gaze snaked upward, _of course_. "Hey." His voice was rough sounding even to his own ears.

Lindsey nodded, glancing downward at him, and wondered if he really thought she was dumb enough not to notice, not to know. "You want to…?" She gestured to the dance floor, where Luke had been staring at for the better part of an hour, ever since Peyton took center stage. _Peyton_- she had lived in fear of that name, she as much as anyone knew the history there but the girl holding court on the dance floor bared little resemblance to the sweet, tortured girl in Luke's story. His words conjured up a sight other than a mini skirt clad girl doing shots and draping herself against any male body. Luke's reply was a heavy silence. "She isn't exactly what I had pictured." A pause before Lindsey felt safe enough to venture again. "She sure likes to dance, huh?"

Luke turned to look bitterly on that girl, that imposer wearing Peyton's skin and smile. "Sure does." And Lindsey expecting some sort of comfort in the way the distained rolled off his tongue instead felt smaller.

"Come on," She rested against the end of the couch, knocking shoulders with her fiancée. "I'm ready to go home."

Home, the word seemed foreign to Lucas's ears, everything seeming top sided since her return. He knew he should leave, knew that whoever that girl was, she clearly did not want his help, but he just couldn't. As bad as it hurt to watch her, to see her smile and giggle, to watch other men put their hands on her, at least she was there. He could see her, hear her, even reach out to touch her. "I can't leave." The words were honest, too honest, a soft voice in all the hardness.

Lindsey looked sharply at him, something falling in the pit of her stomach. "Excuse me?" Her voice was injured, as if she had just been slapped.

A moment passed between them, before Lucas slumped forward, gesturing to the group with arms outstretched. "I don't know where Nathan is. You saw what shape he was in. I am going to need to wait and drive him home." It was the truth, Nathan had been absent from the group for the past half an hour, having spent the previous half an hour dancing a little too closely with Peyton; it was the truth but it wasn't the reason.

Lindsey's eyes flickered from the man she loved to the blonde girl he had once loved and back again. She knew that she should call him on the real reason, but fear fenced her in. It was too fresh, that's all, in a week or two this would all settle, Peyton would go back from where she came and they could go back to their lives. "Okay. I will see if I can get a ride with Haley and Ethan. I doubt they are going to hang around much longer, Haley already told Brooke that she wasn't going to the after party." She lingered for a moment, wishing that he would speak something of comfort to her but no words came. So leaning down she placed a timid kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight."

Lucas sighed, eyes closing at the touch of her lips on his skin, she was better than he deserved at this moment. "Goodnight." He whispered after her trailing form, as he watched her and Haley leave.

"Not really ready for bed yet." Came a cheeky reply from behind him, causing his to whirl around. There Peyton stood, half leaning against the back of the couch, her denim jacket pressing into the red velvet fabric. "Unless you are coming with me." Lucas felt his mouth go dry at her implication, her and him, before Peyton smiled wickedly. "Kidding." She deadpanned.

"What do you want, Peyton?" It was a loaded question but through her fog Peyton heard nothing but the surface, she had long since stopped digging too deep. She now lived in a perpetual immediacy bubble, living so much in the moment that when you were with her you almost forgot that yesterday had ever existed and that tomorrow was inevitable, still there was the way her name rolled off his tongue that tugged at something in her, before she swallowed it down.

"Me?" Peyton questioned, mocking both him and herself, her voice too content to be true. "I just want to dance."

"I thought that's what you had been doing. Why stop to tell me?" He cocked his head to the side; and then he really looked at her, weighing the extent of her in a long piercing gaze so that she couldn't stop the smile that seemed truer than the moment before.

"Touché." She admitted, playing carelessly with one of her golden ringlets, Lucas watching with far too much intensity as she absentmindedly wrapped it around her finger. She dropped the curl she was playing with and spoke. "Maybe I want to dance with you…"

_Maybe I want to dance with you… _the words seemed to linger in the air, forming a phantom sentence in the haze and smoke. He rolled them over his tongue, she sounded so different, a new twist on an old drink. He thought of his body pressed flesh against hers and inhaling the scent that was uniquely Peyton. He wondered if his hands would tremble slightly, like they had that first night, in a small town, as he removed a prom dress she had found at a thrift shop. However his idle wanderings were cut short, her breaking the silence. "It's just a dance, not a proposal." She drawled, a bit of her accent coming out, having mostly be beaten out by years in LA.

He sighed, letting out the breath he had been holding since forever, since that night where it all went wrong. It was as if something in him was waiting for that moment, something to bring up what had happened so long ago that still ached so much. There was a part of him that believed all he needed was closure, for them to get this out and then it wouldn't hurt his heart to think or her, then it would be over and done and he could move on. His voice was icy. "Well we all know how you respond to those."

Peyton's head snapped up, her face contouring for a moment, suddenly sober, pain etching on to her features. Lucas saw her jaw set, and the slight quiver in her chin, her first tell of tears. He wanted to take it back, all of it, but there was nothing to be done then, the damage was done. "Peyt-"

He reached a hand up, instinctively reaching for her soft skin but she stepped back, her hand up, a clear stop sign. She took a deep breath, the world slippery beneath her fingers and she sniffled slightly, a tickle in her nose, like an itch she desperately needed to scratch. She raised her head slowly, her eyes darkening slightly, a wisp of a smile that didn't belong playing on her lips. "I guess that depends on who is doing the asking." She quipped.

"Cute, Peyton, really cute." Lucas couldn't help the anger that flooded his veins and colored his world, he never could with Peyton, she brought out the best and worst in him, made him feel so alive that he wanted to scream and laugh and cry. He was about to lunge again, attacking words at the tip of his tongue when her cell went off. "Of course." He groaned.

Peyton rolled her eyes, pressing talk and holding the phone flesh against her ear, struggling to hear through the din. She was grateful for the interruption, even more appreciative when the words 'Movie Music Sex God' had flashed across her caller ID. Chris and she weren't exactly friends but they were close, they ran in the same circles and after months working to salvage his career they knew each other pretty well, and in the end Peyton felt comfortable with him because he had no designs on her, nothing for her to live up to, or to live down. She could just be. "Hey…"

Lucas listened to the one sided conversation, while half heartedly scanning the room for his brother. He made out a mention of a photo, proof, Brooke, and the phrase "I don't care what that asshole wants" tossed about a few times. It was awkward, him standing so close and yet having no real reason to, not anymore. So he called out to Skillz, who was at a nearby table. "You seen Nathan?"

Skillz worked his way forward, as Peyton conversed on the phone, secretly counting the seconds until she could slip away and slip into bliss. "Not for awhile, dawg, but he did mention something about the wild after party at Brooke's earlier, maybe he headed that way…"

Lucas shook his head, "Brooke's over there still." He gestured to the dance floor where Brooke was dancing with a bartender.

"I don't know, man." Skillz shrugged, taking a long swig of his beer.

"I hate this!" Lucas exclaimed with more venom than the situation called for. "I just wanted to find him so I can go home already."

"I'll be looking for him." Peyton's voice came over them, as she stowed her phone back in her purse. "If it means getting your ass out of here." She explained, starting to walk off before she doubled back. "Actually, see Nathan actually knows how to say yes when a girl ask him to dance. Maybe you could learn a few pointers from him." And with that she stalked off.

"Luke…"

"Yeah, Skillz?"

"Don't take this the wrong way but, man" Skillz sighed. "You done screwed up big time."

Luke watched as Peyton disappeared in the crowd, resignation washing over him. "I know. I know."

TBC

_A/N: Me and this chapter were having issues, I am not thrilled with it but so excited for the next chapter, big drama, intense stuff coming up. Let me know what you think. Reviews feed my muse. –Becca-_


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

_March 5__th__ 1:32 AM_

Green eyes glared into green, the hatred so strong, so tangible that it felt like it was choking her, a lump she had to swallow down, forcing it pass her windpipe where it sat in her stomach, gnawing at her. She wanted to erase that girl in front of her, to silence the voices that whispered in her ear that she should be ashamed, that all she needed to do to get back to what she had been was to simple get rid of that girl staring back at her with eyes lined in heavy black. She instead let her hands run under the cool water of the faucet, scooping a handful and flinging it at the mirror, the girl was blurred under water droplets, still there but hidden as Peyton began to sob, clutching at the bathroom counter, and wondering how she had become that girl. The tears refused to fall, they alone seemed to remain stoic, so all that was left was her cry, a broken prayer to a kinder god then she knew. She slid down, away from those damming green eyes, the title floor cool under her hands, and she ran them back and forth, tracing the grooves, mindless of the grime. She had been in places much worse, still was in a way.

She thought about Julian, and momentarily her hatred with the girl in the mirror flickered out, replaced with instead with raw anger at her former fiancée. Who was he to meddle in her life? He had set the ultimatum, it had been over, he had no right, no right at all- but still a piece of her knew that he was trying, trying to help. In her mind he had always been somewhat clumsy, something he never was except with her, awkward because she was unlike any person he had met, loving and hating, scared and endlessly brave rolled up into the gorgeous woman before him. A memory of him fumbling around in her kitchen right after she had been released came flooding back, and she recalled how she had walked in to see him furiously searching for something, her normally clean apartment looking completely destroyed at his well meaning hands. He had wanted to make her an omelet, she was too… too everything to eat, too tired, too restless, too ashamed, too broken; but she had swallowed a few bites to please him. Sitting on the dirty title Peyton wondered when she had stopped caring about Julian's feelings, she was quiet certain she wouldn't eat a bite now.

Then the anger was back, it was a close friend, always within arm's reach. She hated them all. They didn't know, didn't care, that she couldn't be that girl again, never again. And she unconsciously rubbed a hand over her neck, her fingertips just barely grazing the longest scar that occasionally peeped out from under the jacket and curls, it was the thinnest line, the last one given, when the trashing had stopped. Peyton had almost a fondness for it, proof that she was allowed to do this, to be this, enduring had its own rewards.

"Peyton!" The door open and Brooke nearly tripped over the blonde's long legs, tipsy from the generous amounts of a drink she named after herself. "Hon, what are you doing down there?" There was concern in her voice and something about it caused Peyton to bristle slightly. She didn't need this, not now, it was too late.

"Lost my earring." The lie came easy, slipping past her lips without a second thought.

"Here let me look." Brooke helped Peyton to her feet, the two of them tottering on their heels for a second, and as Brooke scanned the floor Peyton managed to slip off her on earring quietly and place it in her jacket pocket. "Sorry." The brunette shrugged after the quick search revealed nothing. "But that just means shopping tomorrow so I can buy you a replacement pair!"

"You really don't have to do that, Brooke."

"I know that." Brooke pulled Peyton close to her side. "I want to. I've missed you P. Sawyer. Do you know that?"

There was an uncomfortable tightness in Peyton's chest as she replied. "Yeah, " before dropping her voice to a whisper. "I've missed me too."

"What?" Brooke asked, as she leaned over the counter to check her ruby lipstick.

"I've missed you too." Peyton replied, a little too loudly, her voice sounding off the title and porcelain.

"Good." Brooke smiled at her, snapping her gold clutch close. "Okay there is a truly yummy bartender I need to convince to come to the 'way too awesome invite only' after party. So finish whatever it is you are doing and hurry up and enjoy the last little bit of party before the after party party, 'kay?"

Peyton nodded mutely, silently wondering if Brooke had always been this bubbly. It seemed so long ago, her life here, worlds apart from who she was now. Things grew hazy under the hands of time. She thought about bailing, trying to slip out quietly but she knew Brooke would never let that happen. There was a need and an itch of her nose, a demon whispering that she had the answer tucked away in the tiny front right pocket of her mini skirt. It would make it easier to endure and tomorrow there would be a flight and she would be miles away from the boy with blue eyes that always saw her a little too clearly.

With a guilty glance she locked the bathroom door, blocking the outside world before pulling the tiny amber vial from her pocket. She eyeballed its precious content, mentally measuring how long it would last. At this rate- not long. With a sigh she set about in her ritual, the fine chopping with the broken edge of a CD, one she snapped in half quickly, before tossing the remain in the garbage. Somewhere long ago she would have though it deplorable to treat music like that, now it was habit, the cost of the escape and rush. She lined the satin powder on the top of a jewel case and bent down, and then there was white noise, her head full with nothing as the rush first hit her blood stream, an old friend. She raised herself slowly, wiping the tip of her nose, her head swimming in the first moment of the high and there she was that girl in the mirror, and Peyton could feel a wicked smile break out across her self loathing features, the devil within triumphing again.

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

"Brooke." Lucas called, touching her elbow as he approached her, she sat at the bar, leaning forward in hope of giving the yummy bartender a look at her ample chest.

"Hey, Broody." Brooke turned to smile at him, really smile. This had been the best night she had had in so long. It felt right, Peyton being back, and she knew there would be questions in the morning, decisions, but right now she was happily ignoring those bleaker details in favor of cute bartenders and drinks named after herself. "Havin' fun?"

"I wouldn't say exactly that." Lucas replied, settling himself in the stool next to hers, his face set in a solemn gaze, as his eyes looked out over the crowd, seeking blonde curls, even though he told himself he was just looking for Nathan.

Brooke watched him with interest. "She's not there."

"I notice-" Lucas started before turning and seeing the smirk on Brooke's face. "Who's not there?" He attempted to cover lamely.

"Oh come on! You have to do better than that. Who else?" She paused taking in his expression and the festivity around her that didn't match his mood. She hated to do this, here of all places and to him of all people. "Look, I don't want to sound like a totally bitch but cannot you not just leave her be."

Luke looked at her sharply, opening his mouth to speak but Brooke held up a hand halting him. "I know you mean well, Luke, you always do but this is _Peyton_. And I just got her back and I am not sure right now what that even means or where she has been but I know I missed her. It feels right- her being here- and I am sorry if that is selfish but I don't want anyone messing that up."

Lucas couldn't believe what he was hearing, Brooke wanted him to what? Pretend that Peyton hadn't suddenly crash back into their lives, into _his_ life? "So what? Am I supposed to ignore her? Avoid her? Give her the silent treatment? How is that supposed to work, Brooke?"

Brooke exhaled, taking a moment before speaking. "I am not sure how any of this is supposed to work and I have had more than a few Brooke Davis' tonight so I might not be making any sense but as your friend I am just asking you not to push her, okay? I've known Peyton a lot longer than you and whether you like that or not I know how she reacts to too much pressure, she pushes away_- she runs_."

_She runs. _Those words slammed him back to that hotel room four years ago. Where she had pushed him away, frantically back peddling. "So you are saying it's my fault that she didn't stay in touch with anyone? That it is my fault because I pushed her too hard by proposing?" Lucas voice rose with every word until he was shouting.

"Luke…" Brooke shook her head slowly.

"No-" He cut her off. "Its fine, and you don't have to worry about me scarring away your 'good friend', Peyton, I don't want anything to do with her anymore. " He stood, pushing back his stool. "Now if you excuse me, I am finding Nathan and then going home. Happy birthday." He spat out as he strolled away anger vibrating off of him.

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

Peyton made her way back out into the controlled ciaos of the club, the lights seemed to sparkle more, the music seemed more enveloping, it pulsated through her veins, making her hips sway under it's influence. She was about to head to the dance floor when an arm snaked out from behind the corner and grabbed her. Panic overwhelmed her and she let out a scream that was never heard, the hand of her captor and the music drowning out her cries.

**TBC**

_A/N: Sorry I was really struggling with this chapter. I hope people are still interested. Anyway Let me know your thoughts. Feedback is powerful. Thanks! –Becca-_


End file.
